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“As long as you’re okay,” she said.
I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. I can handle him, I promise.” Turning my gaze to the lake, I noticed the first swimmers were lining up at the edge. According to the information board, the first event was the women’s 50-metre race. “Samira’s in this one, isn’t she?”
The conversation was forgotten as everyone focused on the lake.
* * *
Aria disappeared to congratulate Gracelyn and Samira on their respective victories, and I decided to take my chance. Now that I knew where the entrance to the crypts was, it was a perfect opportunity to explore while everyone else was occupied. With a quick goodbye to Will and Katy, I slipped back into Hatherley Hall and made my way towards the cellars.
When I opened the door that led to the cellar storeroom with the hidden entrance to the crypts, I was faced with a problem I hadn’t considered but should have because it was obvious. Next to the entrance was a tiny electronic pad with a glossy square sensor in the centre and “Cerberus” written underneath. A fingerprint sensor.Fuck. I tried the door anyway, just in case, but nothing happened.
Now what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t go back empty-handed—my mum was relying on me to find something we could use against the Ashcrofts, but I had no idea how to disable a security system.
Not for the first time, I wished my life was normal. I didn’t care about being rich or popular or any of those things. I just wanted a normal life, where bad things hadn’t happened, and all I had to worry about was schoolwork and friends and guys who I liked and liked me in return.
As I exited the abandoned cellars, I ran straight into a wall.
No, not a wall. A person.
“Whoa. Watch where you’re—” The tall, dark-haired guy I’d run into broke off as he looked down at me. His mouth curved into an easy grin. “Hey. You’re the new girl. Elena, right?”
I returned his smile hesitantly. I recognised him from my business studies class, and I knew he hung around with Knox and his friends. “Yes. Hi. Graham, right?”
He planted an arm on the wall at the side of my head as he leaned in. “You know who I am. That’s good news for me.”
“Is it? Why?” My smile morphed into a real one. Knox might be an arrogant asshole, but maybe not all of his friends were.
“Hmm. It means you’ve noticed me, and it means you’re going to say yes when I ask for your number.”
“Does it, now?”
“Get the fuck away from her, Graham.”
An arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back into a large, solid body. A mouth dipped to my ear. “What are you doing down here, Elena?”
Knox raised his head, holding me in place, his arm like a steel band, trapping me. Graham’s eyes widened, but he held Knox’s gaze.
“You said you’d never demean yourself by touching her.”
That fucking bastard. It shouldn’t have even surprised me that he’d said something like that, but it still hurt to hear the words coming from someone else.
“She’s off limits to you. You don’t touch her. You don’t even fucking look at her.”
Graham folded his arms across his chest. “What, so you don’t want her, but you don’t want anyone else to have her? That’s fucking unfair.”
“Tell someone who cares. Don’t push me. Elena Greenwood is untouchable. Do I make myself clear?”
“Whatever, man. Why don’t you just admit that you want her? She’s the hottest girl at this school, by far.”
A growl rumbled from Knox’s chest, and my breath hitched. Why was I standing in his grip placidly, letting him argue about me like I wasn’t even here?
“I have—”
Knox’s hand clamped over my mouth. “No. You don’t get to speak. Graham, get the fuck out of here, now, unless you want me to make you.”
Graham threw his hands up. “Fucking fine.” He stalked past us, shooting Knox a dark look, but Knox only laughed before manhandling me backwards into the abandoned cellar.
Pressing me up against the wall, his hand around my throat, he lowered his head to mine. His dark eyes were glittering with rage, and I realised right then just how angry he was. I swallowed hard around his grip. Something told me that his anger wasn’t to do with Graham.
